


Et Verbum Caro Factum Est

by zenelly



Category: Subarashiki Kono Sekai | The World Ends With You
Genre: Christmas fic, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-14
Updated: 2014-01-14
Packaged: 2018-01-08 17:56:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,322
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1135714
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zenelly/pseuds/zenelly
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The small place is relatively neat and well kept, a few plates resting in the sink from the past few meals. On the small wooden desk, there is an old pair of headphones, discarded but never forgotten, a symbol of a lesson long since learned.</p><p>A slim finger touches them gently.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Et Verbum Caro Factum Est

**Author's Note:**

> Something I wrote for an anonymous prompt on Tumblr a while back. The prompt was: _I was wondering if you’d be willing to do a fluffy JoshNeku fic for the holidays?_ , and while this sort of missed the mark of "fluffy" by a little bit, I still liked it a lot!
> 
> The title is from an arrangement of Ave Maria, which translates to "And the Word became flesh". I highly recommend searching YouTube for Chanticleer singing Ave Maria, since it's stunningly gorgeous.

Neku’s apartment is quiet.

Despite the season, there are no decorations within it, no tree, no lights, but then again, that isn’t so unusual. The small place is relatively neat and well kept, a few plates resting in the sink from the past few meals. On the small wooden desk, there is an old pair of headphones, discarded but never forgotten, a symbol of a lesson long since learned.

A slim finger touches them gently.

* * *

 

Neku burns incense at the CAT Mural.

It feels strange to be standing in front of the large graffitied wall knowing that if he’s honoring anyone’s death here, it is his own. One death and three weeks of confusion and upheaval and then here he is again. Neku sighs. At least the others remember the Game too.

The air is cold as he breathes in, cold enough for him to feel it down his throat, and Neku exhales roughly. He always ends up here when something needs to change, which makes him wonder why he felt the need to come out today.

_It's Christmas._

_He has a gift he wants to give and no way to give it._

_He misses this place and the sly smile on Joshua's lips, and he misses not trusting the little brat and trusting him even when he shouldn't._

_He still sees the barrel of the gun in his dreams._

_He can't even call them nightmares._

Neku shakes his head. Whatever. So he came out to see the mural. No big deal.

There’s a faint scuffing sound and Neku pivots quickly. The thrumming of his pulse in his throat calms slightly when he sees the familiar black pants and vest, and he lifts his eyes unbelievingly to see Mr. H, standing there plain as day. Hanekoma lifts a hand, waggling his fingers in a vague greeting, followed by a quiet, “Sup, Phones.” (Neku reflexively raises his hands to touch headphones that are no longer there and stops the motion halfway through.) Hanekoma joins him at the mural. They share a long minute of companionable silence, neither too close nor too far.

Neku sighs heavily, his breath misting in the air. “So…” he trails off, hoping that Hanekoma will fill in the conversational blanks. Mr. H only smiles at him, watching with careful eyes, so Neku relents, not bothering to ask questions he know won't be answered. “How are things? Under the bridge, I mean.”

_Where have you been?_

“Eh,” Hanekoma snorts. “ _He’s_ still in a little trouble after all of the stunts he pulled, and I’m _definitely_ still in trouble, but we’re finally through the worst of it. I got reinstated, Joshua is out of the majority of the restrictions placed on him.” He shrugs, grinning lopsidedly. “I was just coming here to invite you to _WildKat’s_ reopening, actually.”

"Hm? That place is still around?"

_What have you been up to?_

"Well, the building is, anyway, and it's not like the city can exactly get rid of it. Come on, stop staring at this old thing and come get a cup of coffee. On the house, this time. Boss' orders." Hanekoma reaches out to brush light fingertips against the mural, and Neku mimics the motion, the concrete chilled against his skin.

After a long moment, he drops his arm. "Yeah, sure. Let's go. Is he...?"

_How is he?_

Hanekoma's smile fades out, his mouth pressing into a thin line. "He probably won't be there. It _is_ Joshua we're talking about, and I'm not sure what the restrictions on him are right now, since he doesn't exactly share these things."

Neku ignores the pang that goes through him and just tucks his face behind the cowl of his shirt. "Well, whatever. It doesn't matter."

It doesn't matter except for the fact that it does, that Neku looks for Joshua in everything and sees his hand in little ways, like the turn of phrase he'll hear as he's walking down Shibuya's streets, the fashion shifts (now that he knows how to look for them), a hint of laughter on the breeze and a cool touch to his neck whenever he needs to pay attention. It doesn't matter that Neku hasn't found him, that everyone else has told him to give up.

He just wants to see Joshua again.

It's an ache in his bones that he's used to carrying as he turns and follows Mr. H to his coffeeshop.

* * *

 

Neku is warm from coffee and good conversation as he turns the key to his apartment door.

Neku's apartment is filled with music.

Lights festoon every available surface, a riotous mix of colors and tinsel. Cheesy, overdone ornaments and decorations are liberally strewn around the room, leaving what was once a neat and tidy apartment a complete mess. He can’t tell where the music is coming from, or the smell of Christmas cookies, but he’s guessing the kitchen is the answer to both of those questions.

Neku pulls out his phone with hands that are not shaking.

Shiki barely even says hello before Neku asks, “Have you and Eri been in my apartment today?”

There is a silence as Shiki is audibly surprised. “Well. No? Not today, at any rate. Why? What’s wrong, Neku?”

He swallows past the tightness in his throat, but he still hears it as he replies, “Look, I’ll call you back once I know for sure, alright?”

“Alright…”

A quick call to Beat confirms that neither he nor Rhyme have been there either, which leaves…

Neku starts searching through the assorted holiday adornments, looking for everything, _anything_ that stands out, that just says _Joshua_ , and it is then that he comes across his desk. Where, residing next to the pair of headphones, is a bullet casing and a neatly folded piece of paper.

Neku walks over, faint and tremulous steps a product of nerves and nothing else, he swears, and he picks up the bullet shell carefully, noting the holes beveled into it, just wide enough for a chain to fit through. Tucking it into his palm, Neku turns his attention to the note.

 

> _Hope you don’t miss me too much, partner. It’s good to see that your world hasn’t gotten any smaller, and that your lessons from the Game have stuck._
> 
> _Merry Christmas, Neku dear. I noticed that your apartment was a bit, shall we say, lacking in terms of decoration, so I thought I would take care of that for you. I'm sure you don't mind, so get that scowl off your face!_
> 
> _Make sure you think of me when you make your New Year's wish, and I’ll do my best to pull some strings for you._
> 
> _Best of luck, partner. See you around soon!_
> 
> _-J_

 

He turns the card over and over, careful with the paper. For the first time in years, he’s had some contact with Joshua. It’s almost reassuring to know that Josh is still somehow restricted, that he would be there if he could be there, but it is Joshua, and Neku wouldn’t put it past him to be making excuses for being avoidant. As he runs his hands across the note, his fingertips brush over something odd.

Neku, curious, turns the paper over.

And there, on the back, faint enough that Neku has to tilt the paper carefully to see it, are the barest impressions of words, as though they had been written on a page above this one. If he tries hard enough, he can make out, “ _Just keep waiting, I’ll be there soon. I miss-_ ” before the words devolve into a mess of scribbles.

Neku aches, aches and it burns in him, this want to see Joshua again, to see that stupid sly smirk, to be a hand in the darkness for the isolated Composer.

When Neku leaves the apartment, already making plans with the others to meet at Hachiko, he does it with a piece of gunmetal nestled against his skin.


End file.
